Dear Future Child,
Though I don’t know your name yet or if you’ve even taken your first breath, my heart is already eager to embrace you. You are a constant thought in my mind, and the absence of your presence brings me to tears.
What might you be experiencing right now? I’ve been savoring my early 30s—marrying your silly dad, pursuing my career, and enjoying mountain getaways, just like many people my age. Yet, as time passes, I can feel a growing emptiness within me. Are you just a tiny spark waiting to be born, or are you in a difficult situation, caught in a cycle of uncertainty? Are you safe tonight?
You and I won’t share the same genes, which makes it difficult to picture who you might be. You could be a newborn, a curious toddler, or even a wise 10-year-old navigating through foster families. Your appearance could vary widely—blue eyes, dark skin, fiery red hair—or you might even resemble me. You could be anywhere in the world, from China to Africa or South America.
I want to reassure you that, regardless of your background, we are destined for one another. My life experiences have uniquely equipped me for you.
For the past decade, I’ve dedicated myself to teaching preschool, nurturing a heart open enough to embrace dozens of children when they need it most. Each time a little one cried from a scraped knee or hid under a desk during a storm, I practiced what motherhood would feel like. When former students returned to express their gratitude for igniting their love of creativity, I felt a profound sense of fulfillment. Yes, I can love you as my own, even if you’ve had a different mother before me. I promise not to feel jealous—well, maybe just a little!
I have a vibrant, whimsical spirit that’s been waiting eagerly to introduce a child to the wonders of art, magic, and kindness. I’ve honed my skills in teaching little ones how to walk, count, read, and treat their peers with compassion.
I’ve also worked with foster children, some of whom were content, while others carried deep emotional scars. Those who were more challenging often needed extra love, patience, and guidance, and I cherished those opportunities to help them heal.
So many well-meaning people say, “You will be such a wonderful mother one day!” I know it seems a bit unfair, but it may just make our connection even stronger. While you learn about the pain of longing for parental love, I am learning the ache of being childless.
As I watch friends celebrate joyous baby showers, I imagine you watching your peers being held by their mothers at school. Our shared experiences of sorrow will allow us to fully appreciate our future happiness together. Every challenging moment and every skill we learn will unfold beautifully when we finally meet.
When my former husband welcomed his first child, I knew it was a dream he had always wished for—a dream I couldn’t fulfill. He recognized my sadness and reassured me, saying, “You may want to pass on your genetic traits, but you will share your spirit and intellect.” Those words have comforted me on many nights as I yearn for you, my future child.
I worry about you now. Are you doing alright? What experiences might shape your journey before we meet? Will you have the chance to know our cherished family pet, a lovable little dog named Bella? She would adore you, and I can’t wait for you to meet her.
Will you get to know your great-grandparents? They often wonder when you will come into our lives.
Many women wait for their soulmates—the person they are meant to love. But I am destined for you. I eagerly await the day when our paths finally cross. Life is leading us toward each other, and I trust that God is preparing us for this beautiful reunion.